Falling for Mister Wrong

by Lizzie Shane

  If Caitlyn was nervous about him finding out she’d gone all the way with this Mister Perfect ass a few months ago, that would certainly explain her recent squirrely behavior. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care—he’d known she wasn’t a virgin when they first hooked up and he sure as hell wasn’t one himself. He was trying to be enlightened, squashing down his caveman jealousy.

  “So you’re saying because she may or may not have slept with this guy months ago, that I should avoid my very nice neighbor because she must have massive baggage?”

  “They’re saying that,” Julia confirmed. “I’m saying you should avoid her because she’s engaged.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Laney immediately argued, while Will recovered from the verbal sucker punch.

  “Why else would he be here?” Julia countered. “You’ve seen the pictures. And the flowers! They’re engaged. Mark my words.”

  “There are, like, a thousand reasons why he could be visiting the runner-up.”

  “A zillion red roses?”

  “Decoy flowers!”

  “Hey!” Will shouted. “Could someone please explain to your poor brother what the hell you’re talking about?”

  This time it was Claire who took pity on him. “Some pictures came out yesterday of Mister Perfect here in Tuller Springs. It’s pretty obvious that he was going into her place when they were snapped.”

  “And on Valentine’s Day, Monica at the Lodge said she saw some guy delivering the biggest bouquet of red roses she’d ever seen to Caitlyn’s door. Does that seem like the kind of thing you do for the runner up?”

  White noise fogged his brain.

  There was an innocent explanation. There had to be.

  But why wouldn’t Caitlyn tell him that this Mister Perfect guy had come to see her if it was perfectly innocent? And why would she hide a flower delivery? If there even were flowers—Monica at the Lodge wasn’t always the most reliable source, though she was enthusiastic with the gossip.

  Flowers, photos, sex dates…

  Why the hell had she been wearing a veil that first night they met? She’d said it was a gag gift, but her eyes hadn’t quite met his when she said it. Had they? Or was his memory playing tricks on him?

  “Are you going to take that out to them? Will?”

  He looked down, surprised to find himself holding a carrot. Hailey. The snowman. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

  And then he was going to get answers. It was time he and Caitlyn had a little talk about Mister Perfect.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Excuse me, Caitlyn?”

  Caitlyn slowed and turned toward the sound of the hesitant female voice. She supposed it was too much to ask to sneak out to buy a half-gallon of milk and some Wheat Thins without being stopped by someone who’d seen her on television. Especially this week of all weeks.

  The Finale and live reunion special would air on Tuesday. She’d be flying out to Los Angeles for the taping in just a couple days. And she hadn’t had a chance to say anything to Will. Time was running out, but she was so terrified of losing him as soon as she told him, she just kept hoping he would love her enough to look past it, kept waiting for him to say the words.

  The woman who’d stopped her was petite and pretty, with elfin features and big blue eyes. The kind of waifish beauty big strong men loved to protect.

  “Photo or autograph?” Caitlyn asked with a smile that was only slightly forced. She tried to be nice to the fans of the show, but the constant attention was exhausting. She’d never had this kind of notoriety when she was performing. Sure, she’d sign the occasional autograph, but it had never been this constant barrage.

  “Sorry?” the pretty waif asked.

  “Would you like your photo with me? Or can I sign something for you?’

  “Oh, no, no. I’m Tria. Tria Mathers? Perhaps Will mentioned me? I was…. We… that is…”

  The ex.

  This was her. The woman who had broken Will’s heart. The woman he still couldn’t think about without having his face harden into a stone mask.

  Tria. She was lovely. Precious. A gorgeous little pixie.

  Caitlyn hated her.

  “I don’t…” What the hell was she supposed to say?

  “I know you two are friends.” The tips of her blonde hair stuck out from beneath her hat as she gazed up at Caitlyn in the parking lot, earnest and wide-eyed. “I saw the picture on TMZ. I thought you might be more than friends when I saw how he was looking at you, but now… I guess you’re with that TV guy. But it’s Will I was hoping you could help me with.”

  If the woman said she wanted to win him back, Caitlyn was going to go for her throat like a badger. “Help you.”

  “I know this isn’t any of your business, but Will and my, uh, my boyfriend Andy—”

  “The one you jilted him for.”

  Tria swallowed visibly. “Yes. They were best friends their entire lives and I killed that. I know I don’t deserve Will’s forgiveness and maybe Andy doesn’t either, but we would both do anything in the world to earn it.” Tears glistened in her baby blues. “Will has every right to be angry, but I hate that what we did turned him into this angry, unforgiving man. He was never like that before. Will is the warmest, sweetest, most wonderful guy I’ve ever met and I hate the idea that he’s festering with bitterness because I was a stupid cow.”

  Caitlyn eyed the distance to her car. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

  “He won’t even listen to me. I thought maybe if you talked to him… just sort of gently… the next time you see him…”

  Her pleading his ex’s case. That was bound to go over well. Tria looked tearful, but determined. A determined little pixie. “You’re one of those people who has to fix everyone else’s problems, aren’t you?”

  Tria’s grimace was self-effacing. “Guilty. I can’t stand when things are unresolved.”

  Just like Will. How angry he must be to leave this unsettled. “I’m not going to get in the middle of it, Tria. Sorry.”

  “It isn’t for me. It’s for him. And Andy.”

  “You may be right.” As much as it burned to admit it. “It may be better for the whole world if we can just forgive and hug it out. But you can’t force that and I’m not going to push him. He’s still that warm, sweet guy.”

  “Just not with me,” Tria whispered.

  “Yeah, well, can you blame him? You broke his heart.” She didn’t expect Daniel to forgive her. When he finally realized they were broken up for real. If he ever did.

  For all she knew he was still planning the wedding.

  Shit. She needed to tell Will. D-Day was looming.

  “I’ve gotta go, Tria. Good luck.”

  The perfect little blonde pixie watched her walk away.

  Will’s Jeep was parked in front of the chalet when she got back from the store. He must have finished up the Hamilton Family Fun Night early.

  Perfect. She would put away the milk, play the Pathetique, and then confess everything. Nondisclosure be damned.

  It would be fine.

  Caitlyn put away the milk. Popped a handful of Tums. Sat at the piano. Stared at the keys. Flexed her fingers. Petted the silky ivory. Put her hands back in her lap. Went to the cupboard for more Tums, grateful she’d sprung for the value sized container. Back to the piano.

  A knock rattled the door in its frame. “Caitlyn? It’s Will. I know you’re home.”

  There was a note to his voice. Brusque. Hard. She’d only heard him sound like that when he was talking about his ex.

  Oh God. Someone must have seen her talking to Tria. Trust the Tuller Springs gossip mill to get the news to Will in less time than it took her to drive home.

  Caitlyn rushed to the door, pulling it open, explanations ready on her lips, when his first words sent her thoughts scattering to Timbuktu.

  “Did you agree to marry him?”

  Oh shit.

  Chapter Thirty
-Eight

  The way her face fell would have been comical, if it hadn’t been tragic. It was true. She was engaged. Will resisted the urge to rub his chest where his heart used to beat.

  “How did you… who told you that?” she whispered, horror and shock and something that almost looked like relief all flashing across her face.

  “Does it matter? You’re engaged?”

  “Not anymore,” she whispered, and the words seemed to echo in his head, confirming it.

  “But you were. When we met…. The veil.” God, he was such a fucking idiot. It had all been right there and he hadn’t seen. He hadn’t wanted to see. “Jesus.”

  “Come inside, please.” She ushered him in the door and his feet moved of their own accord, shuffling numbly along. “I’ve wanted to tell you. They had me sign all these nondisclosure agreements, that I won’t leak anything about the results of the show, but I had to tell you. I’d already decided that I would risk the lawsuits because I needed you to know.”

  “Did he send you flowers? On Valentine’s Day?” His voice seemed to be coming from far away, some distant island.

  “Yes. I’d broken it off, but he—”

  “And you hid them. That’s why you came downstairs. To keep me from seeing.”

  “Will, please…”

  “And he came here. To see you.”

  “It was weeks ago. Before you and I even kissed. I gave him back his ring.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  The flicker of guilt on her face was another mule kick to the gut. “I didn’t even know you then,” she whispered.

  Later he would feel guilty for making her feel ashamed. Later. Now he wasn’t feeling anything. Just the low buzzing in the back of his brain like a hive of angry bees.

  “I broke it off with him as soon as I realized there was something real between you and me. It’s over, Will.”

  “You’re right. It is.”

  But he didn’t mean with that guy and from the look on her face she heard the distinction in his voice.

  Horror. Hurt. The glimmer of tears. “Please, Will, don’t do this.”

  And then the words came, the ones that had been swarming in the back of his brain with the bees. “When Tria explained that she was leaving me because she’d just fallen in love with Andy out of the blue and you can’t control your heart, do you know what I promised myself? I swore I would never be that guy. I would never do to someone else what they did to me. But you just went and made me that guy without even telling me.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

  “No. Of course not. No one ever does.”

  “I made a mistake when I agreed to marry him and I made another one when I didn’t tell you sooner, but when was I supposed to say something? It always felt like it was too late or too soon. I screwed up. I get that you don’t want to be that guy and you’re pissed at me for that, but it wasn’t just about you.” A rosy flush of anger spread across her face and neck. “Would you rather I made myself miserable for the rest of my life just so I could always keep my word to someone you’ve never even met? I wasn’t going to do that. Especially when it was a promise I made in haste, without thinking things through, swept away in the moment, completely outside my usual reality. People make mistakes! Especially on reality TV. But we try to correct them and now you’re punishing me for figuring out that you’re the one I want? I’m not Tria!”

  “This isn’t about her.”

  “Everything is about her with you!” she shouted. “Do you still love her?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “That isn’t an answer.” Angry tears swelled in her eyes. “She came to see me today. Did you know that? She’s worried that you’re turning into a bitter bastard because you can’t let go of your anger for her.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “That’s what I said. Of course, that was before you decided I was just like her. You can’t forgive her, so how can you forgive me, right? But when you hold onto anger like that, the only person you make miserable is yourself. You don’t forgive people for them. You do it for you. So you’re not festering under the weight of all your regrets. I know I screwed up. I’m sorry. So damn sorry. I’m sorry for Daniel and for you and for Elena and Samantha—”

  “Caitlyn, calm down.”

  Her breath was coming too fast, almost hyperventilating. “Would you even have let me get this close if I’d been completely available? If we’d been able to have a normal relationship and tell people, would you have even wanted me? Did you like that it was all behind closed doors? You didn’t have to tell your family about me. It was never real for you, was it? No commitment if no one knows.”

  “You aren’t making any sense. You need to calm down.”

  She went to the piano, bracing her hands on it, forcing herself to breathe. “I made a mistake.”

  “So did I.” He’d fallen completely in love with another woman who was only going to break his heart.

  She looked up, hope in her eyes.

  “Goodbye, Caitlyn.”

  She flinched as if he’d struck her. He didn’t stay to see her cry.

  Caitlyn sank to the floor as soon as the door clicked softly shut behind Will. It should have slammed. If this was really the end of their relationship, shouldn’t there have been a cymbal crash? There had been screaming (hers), hysterics (also hers), tears (her again). The least he could have added to the equation was a good door slam.

  She sat on the floor and stared at the grain in the floorboards. Shouldn’t she be sobbing? Shock. That’s what this was. Disbelief. What had just happened? Was he really gone?

  A little whimper escaped her lips, but she didn’t have the strength to get up and go after him. What would she even say?

  I love you.

  The words shuddered through her, and then she did begin to sob. Stupid, gulping sobs.

  Ugly crying. Blotchy faced with a freaking fountain running from her nose.

  Of all the regrets she could have, out of everything she’d stupidly said, the one thing that burned was the fact that she had never, not once, told him she loved him.

  Caitlyn dragged herself over to the phone, dialing. It only rang once.

  “Hello?”

  “Mimi?” Her voice quavered, hitching.

  “Where are you? What’s wrong? Oh shit, you told him, didn’t you? Are you home? I’m coming over. Don’t move. I’m coming.”

  Caitlyn whimpered something affirmative and curled up to wait. It wouldn’t always hurt this much. Time healed. She told herself that. Over and over.

  It won’t always hurt. Heartbreaks fade.

  But the words felt like a lie. Will Hamilton was never going to fade from her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Will was righteous and pissed. Then he was righteous and depressed. Then he was righteous and drunk. Then he was drunk and depressed. Then he was unconscious.

  By the time he hit hungover and stupid, it was Friday morning. And Caitlyn was gone.

  He tracked down her friend Mimi, who glared at him like he’d taken up seal clubbing, but when he opened with, “I’m an idiot” Mimi grudgingly informed him that Caitlyn had flown out to Los Angeles early to clear her head and do a dozen spa treatments to try to reduce the puffiness of her eyes before she had to appear on national television.

  Will felt like even more of an asswipe with the confirmation that he’d made her cry.

  Even though her friend was all in favor of his rushing out to Los Angeles to grovel, Mimi didn’t know where Caitlyn was. The show was intensely secretive about things like that, so unless she answered her cell phone, he was shit out of luck.

  She didn’t answer her cell phone.

  He left messages. He begged. He groveled.

  Then he called for the twelfth time and heard the ringtone seeping through the ceiling of his apartment. She’d left the phone behind.

  The woman he—okay, yes, he was pretty sure he w
as ass over ears in love with her—was about to be reunited with the so called perfect guy she had once been engaged to and Will had completely fucked up the send-off. He couldn’t even remember half of what he’d said to her. He just remembered the angry bees in his head and feeling like she had betrayed him and lied to him—and yes, she’d definitely lied, and not about the little things, but she hadn’t had a choice and—God, he just needed to see her. It would all be better if he could just see her.

  He’d have I’m sorry, Caitlyn, I love you written across the sky in Los Angeles—but that would probably only get them both slapped with a lawsuit for ruining the ending of the goddamn show.

  He had no freaking idea what to do.

  So he went to his sisters.

  “You ready, hon?”

  A strange sense of déjà vu came over Caitlyn as she looked into the mirror and met the reflected gaze of Miranda Pierce. Standing over her shoulder, the producer wore a black headset mashed down over her sleek, razor-sharp platinum bob.

  Caitlyn wasn’t wearing a fancy gown this time. The stylists had agreed on a simple sea-foam green cocktail dress and heeled sandals. Nothing too bridal.

  “Sorry you won’t be getting your wedding.”

  Miranda arched a single sculpted eyebrow. “Did you want to get married on national television?”

  “No,” she said with absolute conviction.

  Miranda shrugged. “Well, there you go. Besides, the occasional dramatic break-up is just as good for ratings as the sappy happy endings. Marcy and Craig are still going strong. Jack and Lou are breeding like bunnies—we’re leading with an ultra-sound photo of the twins. It was about time we had a romantic failure. We can’t win ‘em all. And it would be boring if we did.”

  Lucky me, the poster-child for romantic failure.

  Miranda glanced down at her ever-present tablet. “You know the drill. We’ll save you for last. The girls en masse will get to rip him a new one and then Elena gets her turn and then we’ll bring you out.”

  “Can I speak to Elena? Before the show?”

  The producer shrugged. “I don’t have any objections to that, but ultimately it will be up to her. She might not want company.”